Bound By The Missing Hours의 모든 챕터: 챕터 1 - 챕터 10

The air in the small room was thick with the scent of dried sage and something indefinably earthy. The shaman, a woman whose eyes seemed to hold more sunsets than years, leaned forward. The shadows cast by the single candle danced across her face, carving deep lines into her weathered skin."You have a very interesting past and future," she stated, her voice a low, resonant murmur.Danny felt a cold prickle of alarm under his skin as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. "What do you mean?" he managed, his unease stealing his breath.He had only come here with a knot of immediate dread—the haunting recent events and the unsolved murder that was eroding his peace. Now, this unexpected statement felt like a trapdoor had opened beneath him, promising something vast and terrifying.The shaman’s gaze pinned him in place. "You are destined to walk the world until the end of time in this life, but you will not be walking it alone. A love long lost will soon reappear at the moment when y

Danny flinched, his whole body seized by a visceral terror. Detective Ote stood at his full, imposing height, a predatory silhouette against the bright morning. He was just as chilling, just as fundamentally wrong, as he had been two years ago."No... No," Danny whispered, shaking his head frantically. The memories of the detective’s relentless, cruel interrogations flooded back, cold and sharp."Hello again, Danny Bowen." Ote’s smirk was a thin, vicious curve."No... No..." Danny’s breath hitched. Fear constricted his throat until he was hyperventilating, the edges of his vision beginning to blur once again."It seems you are back to your old tricks. Only this time, nobody will be able to help you." Ote stepped forward, his movement swift. Before Danny could scramble away, Ote gripped his collar, hauling him violently to his feet.Officer Net tried to intervene. "Sir, please!"But Ote shoved him aside like a nuisance, spinning Danny around and slamming him against the cafe’s cold glas

The police station was a concrete sarcophagus and escaping it felt like bursting through the surface of deep water. Danny didn't stop to look back. He didn't acknowledge the flood of relief washing over him; he just walked.The cool, damp air of the late November night was a brutal shock after the sterile, recycled hostility of the precinct, hitting his face like a welcome slap.Detective Ote’s voice, though left miles behind, was still a hot, poisonous knot tightening in Danny's skull. The detective's promise—“I will be watching you... I will get you this time”—was not merely a threat; it was a psychological tether, ensuring that every shadow and every parked car on the route home would feel like his surveillance.Danny’s body was bone-tired and aching from the cramped hours in the interrogation room, but his mind was a running at full capacity, cycling through the information it had: the dead cafe customers, the impossible no-blood scenario, and the chilling realization that the kill

The feeling of being watched remained a constant, cold pressure throughout the night, yet it was not the sleepless terror Danny had expected. He woke up utterly rested, a baffling discovery after two years dominated by crushing night terrors and violent flashbacks. His body had finally betrayed its programming, granting him a peace he thought he'd lost forever. It was a security so absolute it was chilling, making him wonder if the presence outside was a threat at all, or a silent guardian—one that, against all logic, reminded his soul of Alex.He pushed the covers off, the mattress groaning faintly beneath him, and moved quickly through his morning ritual. A long shower helped wash away the lingering tension and the metallic scent of fear, followed by a meticulous shave that momentarily disguised the weariness in his eyes.Once the routine was complete, he returned to the bedroom. He didn't reach for his usual casual clothes; instead, he consciously chose an outfit that projected comp

"Alex?"The name was a fragile question, a sound stripped of rhetoric or disbelief. It was the last breath of Danny's normal life. Darkness, swift and sudden, crashed in on his vision. The last thing he registered was the look of pure terror on Alex's face as the man surged forward to catch him.The world became a violent kaleidoscope of black spots and roaring silence. Danny felt the floor tilt beneath him, the doorknob slipping from his numb fingers. Then came the impact—not the hard slam of the carpet that he was expecting, but a sudden, jarring stop in strong arms. The smell that hit him was sharp and specific: cedar and something metallic, like ozone or newly sharpened steel, completely foreign to the man he remembered but similar to the cedar smell he had been smelling recently."Danny! Hold still!" The voice was Alex's, but the tone was frantic, driven by a raw, immediate panic Danny had never heard from the composed, easy-going boy he’d loved. The grip on him was tight, borderi